My blogging mood is finally back, and (you’ve guessed it) it’s all thanks to a certain Miss Y. I have no idea why I was (and still am) so madly infatuated with her- I can only assume that I owed her something from our last life together. Finally, I have an ending for my little one-sided love story with Miss Y, but where exactly did my one-way devotion to a girl (I never knew) began?

It all started on one star-crossed afternoon on the last day of July- my first ever class in SIM. There she was, all elegant and gorgeous (to me at least), catching my eyes instantly. As my male friends can all testify, it is never an easy task for girls to catch my attention- one, you try to be an absolute bitch or two, you can just be yourself and pray there is something about you that I take to my eyes. Well, there we at least a hundred other girls in class that day, but I only had eyes for her (and my Sociology lecturer, of course). To sum up our first encounter, she simply took my breath away.

Two days later, I saw her again in lecture- I was going to see her twice a week for the next couple of months! Seriously, what more could I ask for? She was the sole reason I made the Mathematics classes on cold, rainy Thursday mornings. Just her presence alone made my day. Soon, she began noticing my glances at her, and in no time, she started returning them. I thought Cupid was on my side when a friend of mine crashed my lecture and he turned out to be her friend! Then, my whole world came crushing down when the common friend told me she already belonged to someone else (that lucky piece of shit).

I decided to move on, and basically, get myself a life. But, seeing her on a weekly basis doesn’t really do much to help. What more, after my Mathematics lectures ended, she crashed my Statistics classes too- so, I still get to see her for a least six hours a day every Tuesday. I figured the only way for me to forget her is either to quit school or erase her from my memory ala “Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind”.

These pass few weeks, she has been giving me funny stares- I figured either she has come to know about my blog (through our class portal), or our common friend has already told her the most handsome guy in her class is secretly in love with her. So, I saw her in class again today, and for the first time, she was wearing spectacles. XP asked me who the hell exactly was this Miss Y girl who has been dominating my blog for a good two months already. After I pointed her out to him, he said she was “chui”. Frankly, even if she woke up tomorrow and end up looking like Patricia Mok, I will still love her with all my heart. That’s true love (or true crush or whatever you call it) for you. I bet all the girls must be hoping they had me for a secret admirer (if they’re single), or wishing their pathetic boyfriends loved them half as much as I love Miss Y (if they’re attached).

Anyway, I don’t know what got into me this evening. I accessed my class portal and saw that she has updated her profile and left her e-mail address. One minute later, I was viewing her profile on Facebook and Friendster. Another minute later, my heart was in pieces, pieces so tiny they could pass through the head of a pin. The photographs of her and her boyfriend happily together and all absolutely tore through me. Perhaps only JT can understand what I felt.

So, I guess this is how it all ends. I will forget her. I will try. Or her boyfriend can suddenly become gay and dump her. Or she can suddenly grow some taste buds and dump her boyfriend (for me). Or her boyfriend will get run down by an old, blue Mercedes E200. Who knows?

Anyway, she is just a bloody crush (albeit a very deep one). Yes, I need to get a grip and put things in perspective. There are people dying from hunger everyday in Africa. Then again, this is love- it has no reason, no logic, no perspective. Why didn’t I feel this way when Wina told me she wasn’t coming back? Honestly, I have no answer for that- there is no reason, no logic, no perspective.

Dear Miss Y,

From the bottom of my broekn heart, I just want to say, you made me realise that it is really no use meeting the right person too early or too late- the timing has to be just right. You are still young, only all of nineteen, and there is still a possibility that he will not be your last love. If ever we meet again in the future (ala “My Sassy Girl”), I will make sure we throw your past away, forget yesterday and make the great escape. I give you my blessings and hope that you find the happiness you seek. So, believe me when I say I once loved you with all my heart.

I really did.

Paper bags and plastic hearts

All are belongings in shopping carts

It's goodbye

But we got one more night

Let's get drunk and ride around

And make peace with an empty town

We can make it right

Throw it away

Forget yesterday

We'll make the great escape

We won't hear a word they say

They don't know us anyway

Watch it burn

Let it die

Cause we are finally free tonight

Tonight will change our lives

It's so good to be by your side

But we'll cry

We won't give up the fight

We'll scream loud at the top of our lungs

And they'll think it's just cause were young

And we'll feel so alive

Throw it away

Forget yesterday

We'll make the great escape

We won't hear a word they say

They don't know us anyway

Watch it burn

Let it die

Cause we are finally free tonight

All of the wasted time

The hours that were left behind

The answers that we'll never find

They don't mean a thing tonight

~

I have come to understand that no matter what happens today, tomorrow will be just another day.

Life goes on.

Nowadays my life seems rather busy, and I wonder if it’s actually a good thing. There are times when I prefer to laze on my bed, watch some DVDs, enjoy some time alone, you know, that sort of thing. Homework is contributing partly to my busyness, as it is coming thick and fast, but I guess I am still coping fine (yeah, right). My mathematics class has already ended, and I reckon I did pretty well. In Formula 1 slang, my mathematics is definitely a podium finish; my statistics class has only just started, so it’s still early in the race. As for my sociology, I am okay, just that I am behind a little, but the leader is still within my sight. The same cannot be said of my economics- I have been lapped at least twice already. The worst has to be my business module- blown engine two laps into the race (it really is that bad).

Anyway, school sucks- let’s move on to something else. Wait, speaking of which, Miss Y crashed my statistics class (which only just began recently), so for seven hours straight on Tuesday, I get to see her face. Not that I am thrilled or anything, as Miss Y is acting all weird nowadays- she still tries to electrify my eyes every now and then; but now that my interest in her is gradually diminishing (no shit), I find her way of looking at me kind of funny- erm, how do I put it? It has become more like a stare or something- the type of stare whereby if she were a guy, I would definitely go up to her and say some not-so-nice-things in Hokkien. Then again, she may be stalking me and scrutinising my blog entries for all I know (which will explain everything). But anyway, she is part of the reason school sucks. Another reason is I have finally, really, absolutely devoted myself to single hood (stop laughing) - I wouldn’t want to give up any part of the life I am having now for a girl. So, no girl in school can really make me look at her twice. Ever. So, school sucks.

Anyway, I am busy partly because I have just been reacquainted with a bunch of my primary school mates. And honestly, I totally enjoy their company- which makes me wonder why it took so long (ten years and the passing of a wonderful boy) to finally pull us together. As you already know (from ‘The Longest Entry’), Saturday night was spent catching up with JJ and MM, and last night was spent catching up with MM and Sam- the catching up never seems to end, and I seems to enjoy it more and more. And in the process, I know I have been neglecting my other friends more and more. I know, it’s hard to manage, but I am only a phone call away. Tomorrow is Thursday night, so supper at Al-Azhar (Les and XP take note).

Sunday night was spent at Tigress’ 21^st birthday party, and it a pleasant surprise to finally see Smallfat again (still fat, still petty). And the main lady that evening looked great herself too. And of course, I flirted with her sister. Just a little.

So, now, let’s talk about volcanoes. So, I was referring to my attractive optician as an ‘extinct volcano’- it’s like an impossibility that she will ever ‘erupt’, in other words, impossible I will ever date her. Certain female friends of mine belong to this category, while the rest of them will be under ‘dormant volcano’- reason being I don’t really date friends, but who knows what the future holds? Shit can happen when you least expect it.

I have been msn-ing JT a lot lately- and I thoroughly enjoy trading insults and confiding in her. Actually, it’s more of her confiding in me, but talking to her, sometimes brings me back to my past, and makes me think of old times. I reflected a lot on my actions (and inactions) and I feel I am not really cut out to love a girl right now. I have become rusty in the game of love, and I don’t think I can love as deeply as before. I have seen the world more, grown older, and grown wiser. I’m tired- can a girl please come and sweep me off my feet? Just for a day?

Alright, let’s call it a night. As you can tell, I am not really in the mood to blog tonight, but if I don’t, I wonder when I will have time to do so (my Aunt is getting married over the weekend- so, I am the default chauffeur). Right now, I so want to accompany Les to Phuture (and let the alcohol lift my spirits), but I have my economics test tomorrow afternoon. The weather is not helping things. My leg still hurts (f*ck you, Ong Bak). I’m starting to get hungry. Maybe talking to JT later will lift my spirits.

Just maybe.

Well I would rather be mean than love and lie
I’d rather tell the truth and have to say goodbye
Would you rather take a blow

And at least then you would know

But baby I don’t want to break your heart slow
~

The pass few days have been simply overwhelming- I have not been that busy in such a long time. All I could manage was some sleep and Facebook-ing.

It all began with class on Thursday morning and the introduction of my new hairstyle to the girls in SIM. I have briefly mentioned the effect it had on my (so-called) friends in my last entry. Anyway, I don’t think I look half as bad as some of friends said. Taking into account the number of girls who were looking me (Miss Y, as usual, was up to her tricks), I felt my hair passed the test with flying colours (you can start laughing now, suckers).

Later on, I collected my contact lenses, and so, flirted with my beautiful optician (with a Masters of Science in Clinical Optometry, what more can a man ask for?) for the last time this year (my contact lenses last me something like fourteen months, so me and her is kind of like a annual affair). By the way, I am NOT a player- I genuinely feel we can click, although we talk like once a year when we are alone in the room (no, there is no bed in such rooms) where she’s testing my eyes. Lately (read: these pass few years), she seems rather interested in my relationship, ever since I brought SY there to accompany me (like five years ago). Then again, that is pure speculation on my part, and I remembered asking for her number when I was like fifteen and she gave me her office number in return (I told you I was a late bloomer in the game of love, plus my pick-up lines definitely weren’t as ‘solid’ then). She is twenty-eight now, and inevitably, she is looking for the marriage type of guys, which I am anything but (please click this entry for more details). She is more an ‘extinct volcano’ than a ‘dormant volcano’ to me (I shall come to that later).

So, my primary school class gathering on Thursday night did actually materialised. Before that, I was feeling so excited (more excited than dating Miss Y, certainly) that it felt like a dozen caterpillars had hatched simultaneously in my stomach. Well, I missed the last (and only) class outing last year due to my commitment in protecting my country’s interest in Brunei Darussalam (read: shit posting to the land of no (night) life). In the end, only seven turned up, but it was already more than I expected. I am eternally grateful to all of them for making it possible- though I wasn’t the best of friends with MM, LY and Mich in primary school days, it’s never too late to start, is it? We had tons of fun (the photographs in my previous entry are evidence of that), and yet it was nostalgic at the same time. Ten years (that’s half of my life)- we have grown so much, yet for six hours last night, it felt like they have never been away from my life at all. I got on with the guys really well, and our conversations (and subsequent sarcasm and insults) carried on from where we left off ten years ago. In the car, we were busy babbling- talking about everything, from our common dislike for a particular primary school teacher to which one in our class was most likely to have a shotgun marriage (don’t ask). Things we didn’t talk about before were all said (nothing was held back). Anyway, I tried singing 彩虹, and honestly, I sounded like total crap (why do I feel I sound so much like Jay whenever I am bathing?). Well, on the way home (alone, after sending them home), it struck me- I felt so old talking to them, and (I would like to believe) I have changed some much since my primary school days, yet somehow they only saw the lighter side of GuangHui. If you are reading this, which side of me do you really know?

Friday (surprisingly) was spent with my family at Terminal 3 and IKEA Tampines. My dad blasted my hi-fi (to the latest Jay songs) at ten in the morning, and told (more like shouted in my ear) me that we were all going out pretty soon. Frankly, I have never felt worse hearing Jay’s vocals. So, in the car (I didn’t drive due to my lack of sleep and my fondness for being driven), it was family conversation time. You see, at home, it’s like we have our own territories- I’ll be in my room, my sisters in their own room and my mum and dad watching TV in the living room or in their own bedroom. We hardly have dinner together as a family at home (my dad takes his early, my mum depends on what time she finishes her chores, my sisters after they wake up from their naps and me, let’s just say I prefer watching Youtube while eating my food), and thus, my quality family time are such trips where we are in a confined place and there is no place to hide.

We usually have a topic each to share, and my mum will usually start with my late nights, and then my sisters’ untidiness and lastly, our attachment to our respective laptops and computers. What do mothers know? Anyway, my topic was (understandably) on my primary school mates, and my mum simply could not believe her luck, and took this opportunity with both hands to stir my shit. She started telling my sisters the stuff I did when I was in primary school and I was a bad example and all. Once again- what do mothers know, seriously? I was a bloody kid, for crying out loud. How was I to know sticking a drawing of a turtle on my classmate’s shoulder was wrong? It still isn’t wrong now, if you ask me- it was all in the name of fun (it’s not such a big deal- the ‘turtle’ guy didn’t even mind, plus TMNT was a craze then). I understand I was no role model but then again, I was not like the blackest sheep or anything. I never fought (publicly). I never made anyone pregnant. I never set our science laboratory on fire. Comments please, primary school mates.

Anyway, nothing much happened, though I cam-whored a lot with my youngest sister (you can tell which sister I am closer to), and I bought some stuff from IKEA to decorate my room. Lunch was junk food at the airport while dinner was at IKEA. I fell asleep on the journey home. But, that was not to be the end of my night.

Friday nights are FICO nights (needless to say), and once again, Shrek, DT and co made a special appearance, while the usual suspects (Les, XP, Ong Bak) were all present. By the way, Les commented that I look very much like Ella of S.H.E, and after looking myself in the mirror a couple of times just now, I cannot help but agree. Well, I had the lousiest of game in a long time, and it was partly due to one wild tackle from the least expected source- Ong Bak. Having played soccer with him for years, I know his style of play very well. That tackle was meant for taking someone out (the intended target was one of my teammates), and his one hell of a sorry-ass explanation (sorry, I couldn’t stop in time- couldn’t stop in time? The ball was gone like five seconds ago before you crashed into me, Joey Barton) only served to confirm what a lousy liar he actually was. My thigh is still hurting as I am typing now, but frankly, my heart hurt more than anything else (with friends like these, who needs enemies?). Nevertheless, I am already planning how I can repay that sucker this coming Friday night. Be afraid, Ong Bak, be very afraid. And don’t worry, I will think of a perfect explanation for me breaking his ankle.

Anyway, after that, I had supper and chatted with Les and XP till five (yes, five) in the morning. It could have been much longer, but I simply couldn’t take it anymore. When I left, the two of them had just ordered another round of drinks, and when I logged into MSN yesterday evening, I saw XP’s message (sent to me when I was offline). That message was dated 6:17am 17^th November- now you believe me when I say I have truly crazy friends.

Last night, I met up with MM and JJ (again) at Liquid Kitchen to catch up (our conversation were more heart-to-heart compared to the jokes and all on Thursday night at K-Box). Well, the details will be in my next entry (it will be entitled ‘The Volcano Entry’) - I have been typing for a good two hours, and this has to be my longest entry ever.

There would be no punch line today, but I just want to say that the Russian defender who let the Israeli player stole the ball from him (and subsequently conceded the winning goal) is such a woeful actor- he made it pretty obvious that the bookmakers have already stuffed a suitcase full of cash into his locker at halftime. No?

http://www.flickr.com/photos/10407666@N03/sets/72157603198669988/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1mm_Np3nBVs

Okay, for those who saw my hair in school today (XP, Shrek, Alan, Miss Y, the countless girls in SIM), my hair is supposed to be red. RED. I told the hairdresser I wanted red (not attract-attention red, just normal red), but it turned out to be hazel brown for reasons only the hairdresser and my hair know. And I understand I do look a bit weird, since you guys have been used to seeing me with my long locks every other day, so now, my ears look kind of huge (ala Mickey Mouse). But I can assure you that this particular feeling will soon pass, so please stop talking about my ears the next time you see me (assholes). By the way, the L’Oreal wax I am using totally destroys my hair- it’s only the second time I am using it (since yesterday), and my hair feels like my pubic hair every time I tried to wash the wax off. I thought that after cutting my hair, I wouldn’t have to condition my hair daily, but I guess I am so wrong (after witnessing first hand the powerful results of L’Oreal’s research and development department).

By the way, I am getting so excited about tonight (why am I ending my every entry with a punchline?).

I was MSN-ing JT (she needs no introduction by now) the other day (MSN has become a huge part of my life, which means I have no life), and we were talking about love (again). The usual pattern emerged- she mentions Miss Y (to give me false hopes) now and then while I bring up TGTBT (a male version of “Miss Y” to JT) at every opportunity in return. It is fun talking to JT about relationship and stuff, because she (quite) understands me, and she is not part of my immediate social circle. Despite having been out of a good half of my life, she never fails to give me a new perspective of things, and this time round, we were talking about marriage.

At first, she asked me whether I preferred my wife to be sexy OR pretty. Well, given our age, I would think that the next person we date would most probably be the one we marry (for her, most definitely; as for me, maybe, maybe not, since I don’t intend to walk down the isle till I’m like thirty or more). Therefore, being pretty or sexy was not really an issue with me, because I rather my wife understand me more than anything else (it’s not like I’m asking she to be my best friend or something, but at the very least she has to understand me more than my average friend do). Frankly, I do not see how I can spend the next fifty odd years of my life with someone who doesn’t know me. But to answer her question (since there are only two options- sexy or pretty), I replied that I rather my wife be pretty, and my mistress sexy. Hands up, guys who agree with me- I rest my case.

Out of the blue, she told me that I wasn’t ready for marriage (huh?). My first impression was she meant I am a player, I am not the faithful type. Okay, she then elaborated a little (‘I just feel you cannot lor’), and my assumption was that due to her bias opinion of guys my age (please don’t ask why), she simply felt I wasn’t ready. I argued that I am not ready for marriage doesn’t mean I am not able to commit to a long-term relationship (if need be). I have nothing against dating for a few years until I was thirty and then get married.

Suddenly, the magnitude of the word marriage struck me. If you ask me to get married this year (due to unforeseen circumstances, say, torn condom) or let’s say the next year or something, I am very certain I would basically kill myself. Marriage? Tied down for life? Naggy wife? Evenings doing the housework? Boring sex? Kids who behave like little drunkards? No way- somehow, I just don’t see it happening. So, perhaps JT was right- I really isn’t ready for marriage (told you she understood me).

Anyway, I had my haircut this afternoon, and it didn’t really pan out the way I would have liked. I mean, I was looking for a Japanese beach boy look, and after two hours, all I got was a Singaporean bookie look. It’s really that bad. Anyway, I firmly believe that form is temporary, and class is permanent- tomorrow in class I am sure Miss Y will still be electrifying my eyes as usual. Anyway, I had my hair cut together with Eileen (no pictures, yet) and it was great catching up with her at the salon. Well, I kind of overslept in the morning (I was blogging till three, if you didn’t already know), so she came up and waited for me. I showed her the Facebook group I created and all those photos from our primary school days, and she was pleasantly surprised, I have to say. By the way, JT also just had her hair trimmed, so officially, I still have longer hair than her.

And remember I told you before that my little sister has her own blog? And today, she asked for mine- let’s just say I would rather get hitched than give her my blog address. There are just some things about her brother that a thirteen-year-old cannot know. JT too has a rather naughty little brother, if you didn’t already know. But I am pretty confident my sister beats her brother hands down when it comes to juvenile delinquency.

Lastly, my blog entry is bold at the special request of JT (she has night blindness, but the main problem are her really tiny eyes). And did you notice that I did not mention Miss Y in every paragraph tonight? The next observation that comes to your mind is as good a guess as mine (and no, it’s not THAT).

Goodnight, JT.

Sometimes, there are certain things that are just out there, waiting for you to discover them. For instance, after more than a decade of isolation, I finally learn that JJ (no, not that small-eyed Singaporean singer) and JT (no, not that sexy-back singer) are two friends who I can actually talk to. The former is one who I can share everything with and the latter is one whom I share countless similarities with. And officially, Facebook is at least 2,938 times better than Friendster, and it is through FB that many of my primary school mates came to know about my fantastic (wonderful, magnificent, splendid, glorious, brilliant, superb, impressive, marvellous, fabulous) blog.

Anyway, the one thing everyone will ask me after reading my entries is- just who exactly is Miss Y? So, for the last time, she is just another girl. She is not the prettiest (she need not be); I have not spoken a word to her before in 22 years; and there are only two things I know about her- she has a deep voice (ala Ella of S.H.E) and she is attached (I’m still trying to find out that piece of shit’s identity and hopefully I will be able to run him down with my dad’s car in the near future). Okay, I admit I kind of exaggerated the ‘I am still madly in love with her’ part, but come on- she is the only spark (think: ‘Times Square can’t shine as bright as you’ type of spark) in my otherwise interesting-as-watching-paint-dry life. But then again, who knows what type of girl she really is? Maybe she has underwear issues (think: Britney) or a fetish for video cameras (think: Paris)? She maybe an alcoholic, car-crashing bitch (think: Lindsay) for all I know. The good thing is now I don’t need to know. Our lives are like two parallel lines- our paths will never cross. So, let us just leave it as it is.

So, the girls were saying I blog with too much emotion and sentiment (read: I blog like a girl), and some question the wisdom in doing so. Like I’ve said before- I blog for my friends and my friends alone- why would someone I don’t know want to read my blog? And, yes, I put a lot of effort into my entries- hence, the emotions and sentiments. Well, I have read blogs a plenty, and most of them are all ‘bling’ and glam, but with superficial content (I still read them, just that I don’t look forward to reading them). I am not saying it is wrong to blog in that particular manner (everyone has their own approach, no?), but it is just so not me to decorate my entries with some cam-whoring photos or content like ‘thanks a million, xxxxx, for going to xxxxx with me the other day’. I feel readers of my blog should know just a little bit more about me after each entry (I am referring to the significant (read: wordy) ones). Do you?

And yes, I know I adopt a ‘player’ persona on my blog, but it is all in the name of comic relief. Which player in the right frame of mind will announce to the whole world that he is indeed a player? Then, who is he going to play- girls who are blind, dumb or illiterate? Come on. And if you know me well enough, you will know when I am serious, and when I am anything but. And in order to know me well, you can always start by reading my blog. I have been blogging for almost a year now, and honestly, I am sure there are at least twenty entries worth spending your time on. Trust me.

So, what are you waiting for?

Apologies to all my fans out there- my latest album ‘On The Run’ will only be released in Singapore on Tuesday, 6^th November, due to unforeseen shipping problems. A very big sorry once again.

I wonder is this good news or bad news- Miss Y is already attached (surprise!). I guess it must be good news for my countless female fans out there, and good news when it comes to me trying to get her out of my head (I keep telling myself she is just one girl, just another girl, on the street). I’m sure this latest development definitely helps.

And no, Les, I am no third party wannabe (think: Angelina Jolie) - my children will suffer the consequences if I (continue) breaking people up. By the way, I have just finished watching ‘My Sassy Girl’ in a desperate attempt to mend my broken heart (also partly because she looks so much like that Korean chick in the film). Well, after two hours sitting in front of my laptop, I have come to the conclusion that if Miss Y and I are really that meant to be, we will meet again somewhere in the future.

There is no point meeting the right one too early or too late.

May this be the last entry on Miss Y.

Goodbye.